


i was told when i get older (all my fears would shrink)

by maurascalla



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: F/F, Poverty induced creativity, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 18:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5595823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maurascalla/pseuds/maurascalla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Mandy watches Yevgeny play with the saltine crackers his mom put on his tray. She watches his chubby little face light up when they crumble in his hands. She can see her brother in his eyes and Svetlana too, in his grin. An unexpected fondness wells up in her chest, making her warm and cold in equal measures.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	i was told when i get older (all my fears would shrink)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [voicesofreasons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voicesofreasons/gifts).



> this is for vor, who i love most ardently. she wanted sveta/mandy and winter, which i did, but i'm not sure this is exactly what she was looking for. anyway, this is set in a nebulous future where mandy never left, but ian and mickey are still separated.

When Mandy wakes up, she immediately shifts and burrows deeper into her blankets. She’s got three thin ones piled on top of each other in an effort to keep warm through the night. There was only enough money last month to pay for twenty dollars in heating oil, so they’re running on space heaters, threadbare blankets, and cold showers. They can’t afford the light bill either, but apparently it’s illegal to turn off the electricity during the winter months, regardless of much the bill has been wracked up. Mandy’s worried about when spring comes and they can turn it off again, but until then, she’s glad for the hot plate sitting on the coffee table in the living room, warming the front of the house. 

“Breakfast,” Svetlana says. Mandy peeks out from under her covers and looks up hopefully.

“Coffee?” 

Svetlana, standing in the doorway of their room, clothed in a short silky kimono and a lumpy jacket that used to be Colin’s, moves her son from one hip to the other. “Of course.” 

Mandy groans and slides out of bed, quick like pulling off a band aid. She’s wrapped up in two hoodies, one of her’s layered under one of Ian’s. Racing the cold, she hikes up a pair of fleece lined leggings, jumping into them and wriggling in an effort to pull them on. When she looks up, Svetlana is smiling at her fondly, and Mandy grins back, a little bashful. 

“Come,” Svetlana orders, beckoning Mandy forward with the wave of her free hand, the one not holding Yev to her side. She grabs Mandy’s arm and drags her into the kitchen behind her. Her fingers are digging into the fabric of Mandy’s hoodies. 

“Where’s Mickey?” She wonders out loud, falling into a kitchen chair. With an annoyed grunt, she pushes a pile of Colin’s mail fraud out of her way and rests her elbows on the cold plastic of the table. 

“Out with boy,” Svetlana replies. She’s getting Yevgeny set up in this high chair, his puffy little coat straining against the tray. 

Mandy folds her arms on the table and hides her face in the soft cotton of Ian’s sweater. “Ugh,” she groans. She does not want to be awake. 

“Here,” Svetlana nudges her shoulder and sets a cup of coffee down in front of her. “To be ready for work,” she explains. 

“Thanks,” Mandy says. She pulls on Svetlana’s hand before she can walk away, squeezing it, feeling her cold fingers under the sleeve of her jacket. Quickly, she bends down and presses a kiss to Mandy’s forehead. 

“Drink,” Svetlana commands, pointing to the mug at Mandy’s elbow. 

Over the rim of her coffee cup, Mandy sees the other woman pushing down the button on their ancient toaster. She holds her hands over the bread slats to warm her fingers. 

“Oven broken,” She says, accent heavier in the way it gets in the mornings. 

“When did that happen?” Mandy demands. They can’t afford that, and it’s not like she could fit more double shifts into her schedule. She’s working every day this week, they all are, and they still can’t seem to break even. Between her brothers’ legal bills, the baby, and the housing costs, they’re all swamped. 

“You no worry,” Svetlana says. “Got it covered.”

“How-”

“Paco was electrician in El Salvador, he help. I take his shift on Monday,” she explains before Mandy can start stressing out. Svetlana smiles beatifically, but she’s tired. They all are. 

Mandy watches Yevgeny play with the saltine crackers his mom put on his tray. She watches his chubby little face light up when they crumble in his hands. She can see her brother in his eyes and Svetlana too, in his grin. An unexpected fondness wells up in her chest, making her warm and cold in equal measures. The feeling forces her look away, into the kitchen where Svetlana is puttering around, putting the now toasted bread into the microwave with pieces of knock-off cheese between the browned slices. 

“Grilled cheese for my girl,” Svetlana declares, setting one of the sandwiches in front of Mandy and carefully cutting up a second for her son to gum at excitedly. 

Mandy pulls her hands out of the relative safety of Ian’s hoodie and says, “Thanks.” Her sandwich is soggy from the microwave, but it’s warm and the cheese spills down over the crusts. She digs in, just as enthusiastically as her nephew, if a little neater. 

Svetlana stares at Mandy while she eats, her eyes soft and tender. She stares like Mandy’s made of sunshine, like the sight of her is warming her core more that the coffee in her hands, steam curling into the air. 

She sips her drink slowly, and just stares. It used to scare Mandy, the looking. It felt strange to her, made her feel awkward and unsure of herself. It’s like Svetlana is studying her, like maybe there will be a test later and she absolutely has to pass with flying colors. With time though, Mandy’s learned to like it, almost finding security in the other woman’s intensity. Eventually, Svetlana turns away from Mandy, to coo at her son and sing to him in Russian, her tone light and playful. 

The thing Mandy has with her brother’s wife is comfortable. It feels right to wake up next to Svetlana, to eat the breakfast she’s made for her. She likes the sweet kisses late at night after long, terrible shifts at work, likes being reminded that someone cares. They haven’t had sex yet, but she doesn’t mind, really, even though it’s been months since they started this co-existence. The easy domesticity is almost everything she’s ever wanted, and she feels so lucky to share it with someone as fiercely loyal and unflinchingly funny as Svetlana. 

Stomach full, Mandy pushes her plate away and props her chin in her hand and watches Svetlana try, and fail, to clean her son’s little face. When her phone’s alarm starts blaring from somewhere in the pockets of her hoodies, Mandy gets up from the table with a heavy sigh. 

“Work,” she explains, stooping to plant a kiss on a mushy bread sodden Svetlana’s lips. They kiss again, on Mandy’s way out the door, squirrel hat tucked into the pocket of her oversized coat. 

**

It’s a long day at the diner. People track in snow and mud and their bad attitudes. She gets a run in her stockings at the knee, and every man she serves for the remainder of her shift has something to say about it. One of the other waitresses skips out and never returns after her lunch break, leaving Mandy to man her sections in addition to her own. She sneaks cigarettes when she can with one of the cooks, but by the end of the day, she’s tired and irritable and wired from cup after cup of her boss’s shitty coffee. 

When she gets home, she doesn’t bother to get undressed before falling into bed. From her spot under a pile of clothes that never got put away after they were laundered, and her three flimsy blankets, Mandy can hear Paco and Svetlana laughing in broken English  
.   
She groans pathetically, and burrows in deeper. She falls asleep the the sound of Paco swearing in Spanish while Yevgeny gurgles in the background. 

**

When Mandy wakes up, it’s dark in her room. Svetlana’s laying beside her, curled into her side, wearing the hoodies Mandy had discarded that morning. 

Silently, Mandy slides out of bed and tiptoes through the darkened room, picking up what she thinks might be pants and a sweater as she goes. She exits her room and pads down the hallway and into the bathroom, where she peels off her work uniform- tossing the ruined nylons into the trash- and hurriedly piles on the layers she’d picked up off her bedroom floor. 

Out in the livingroom, Iggy’s sacked out on the couch, beer bottle hanging loosely in his hand, nearly on the floor. She takes it from him gently and downs the rest of it on her way into the kitchen. It’s still cold, because the house is freezing, but it’s flat. 

Mandy digs around in the debris on the kitchen table blindly until she finds a pack of cigarettes. They’re Mickey’s boyfriend’s, she realizes after the first inhale, because they’re menthol and she doesn’t know anyone else who’d willing buy them. She shrugs and keeps puffing. 

“Is cold,” Svetlana says softly, coming up behind Mandy. She kisses her cold lips to Mandy’s sleep warmed neck. 

“Did I wake you up?” Mandy asks, reaching for the other woman’s hands. She’s wearing gloves. 

“Yes, but is okay,” she replies. “Have to check on Yevgeny anyway.”

Svetlana takes out her phone and taps out a message to Kev, who takes Yev on the nights when Mickey can’t take him to his boyfriend’s, where there’s heat and hot water. Svetlana worries about the baby freezing in the night, when they can’t just leave on the space heaters. Mandy isn’t positive, but she thinks Svetlana might have lost a sister that way. She trusts Kev and V though, to take care of him overnight while they scrape together enough extra cash to buy more heating oil. They take a little out of her pay check, but it’s worth it. 

While Kev and Svetlana text back-and-forth, Mandy cranks the oven up to 400 and opens the door. In a few minutes, the coils are glowing bright and orange and casting a dim light into the kitchen. It feels warmer already, and Svetlana takes off her gloves. 

Mandy finishes Iggy’s beer and sets the empty bottle in the sink before grabbing a couple more out of the fridge, one for her and the other for Svetlana. 

“Oh, I get these for you,” Svetlana says, turning in her seat and rummaging through a pile of stuff on the floor by the counter. She pulls out a bag of marshmallows with a triumphant little “Ah ha!” 

Mandy watches, curious, as she sets the bag down on the table and drags a fork out from under a pile of papers. She stabs one of the marshmallows with it, almost viciously, and hold the fork out for Mandy to hold. 

“Okay, what am I supposed to do with this?” She asks, wiggling it in the air between them. Svetlana “tsks” and tells her to be patient. Mandy huffs, like she’s annoyed, but she’s playing. In the glow of the heating coil, she can see Svetlana’s smile. 

From the front pocket of Ian’s sweater, Svetlana pulls out a lighter. It sparks to life in her hand, and illuminates the kitchen with a flickering light. 

She holds the flame to the underside of Mandy’s marshmallow, setting it on fire. 

“Blow out now,” she orders, and Mandy does, without hesitation, the fork warm in her fingers. 

Tentatively, Mandy bites into the burnt outside of the marshmallow. After the initial taste of ash, the sticky sweet goo tastes amazing. She passes the fork to Svetlana, who takes a bite of her own. They work through most of the bag this way, until Mandy’s eyes are heavy and her whole body feels warm and sated. 

“Let’s go back to bed,” she suggests with a sugary kiss. Their lips are tacky, burnt marshmallow crust stuck in the cracks of their skin. 

“Hmm,” Svetlana agrees, following Mandy into their room after turning off the oven, but leaving the door open, allowing the remaining heat to seep out. 

Together, Mandy and Svetlana snuggle into bed, hiding from the world under three thin blankets and so many sweaters. They tunnel in and wrap their arms around each other, Mandy’s cold nose pressed into Svetlana’s neck. 

“Night,” she mumbles, kissing under the other woman’s ear. Svetlana pats her head and returns the sentiment. 

They fall asleep to the sound of Iggy’s snores, bundled up and content.


End file.
